Thursday, September 30

let's talk about sex

Scared to offend? Dorothy Black thinks it's ridiculous that talking about sex remains a taboo.

About a month or so ago I got my first BCCSA complaint about The Dotspot on 5FM.

BCCSA complaints are hardly a rarity in media. Venting of the moral spleen is a happy past-time in South Africa. Especially with regards to the hot topics of religion, sex, politics and race (in no particular order).

In fact, judging by some of the comments left on women24's columns, you'd think sex is the evil that is corrupting the very heart of our global society and it alone -- along with Islamic terrorists, Jewish land-grabbers or the Christian fight-wing (whatever suits your compass) -- will be the downfall of man.

(the podcast for the show that got the first complaint is on sasha martinengo's site here)

'The song’s cautionary lyrics and frank discussion of HIV, condoms, and cultural censorship positioned Salt-n-Pepa to become an activist group that would continue to rally behind the cause of HIV-awareness and safer sex.' SEXAMERICA

so the sexpo's up again. this weekend in jozi and in the mother city in dec. here's what i wrote about the sexpo last year.

mind. blown.

this week's column is really pretty tame in tone. which is very different to how passionately i feel about the topic. i just couldn't let the shriek come through. i'm truly boggled at how double standards and false logic prevail against rational thinking.

mind. blown.

speaking of blowing minds. got a reader write in with a question about her bf who thinks she's cheating on him because she doesn't ejaculate when she has sex with him (she squirts a stream by herself...). two things:

one. so odd that a man can expect a chick to shejaculate on demand
two. how her not squirting is a testament to her character not his shitty sex techniques or impatience.

men. are. weird.

Tuesday, September 28

peace and joy

back at yoga. daily. found a new studio which i am loving. got the whole bikram thing with added hot vinyasa and ashtanga and such and such... mostly it's pretty. i'm much about pretty.

and i'm not telling where it is because it's still new(ish) and the whole of cape town isn't going there yet.

i'm being selfish that way.

fortunately i'm not at all buddhahistic in any way. or krishna-something-or-another or whatever religion espouses sharing stuff all the time.

besides. i figure myself more on the toaist path. in which case i would rather you find it on your path in your own time, in your own stream, when the universe or something sends you a guide when you're ready etc etc etc

The Stream. Find your own, cocksucker.

Monday, September 27

how to make rat look like chicken


burn hair off








yucko. via mail. circa 2006. but i only saw this last week. dunno where it's from originally. no one seems to know.

Sunday, September 26

postsecret pic of the week

i always freaking knew it. check out the other postsecrets...

been scarce on the blog. couldn't bring myself to buy more data time. really struggling -- emotionally and psycologically speaking -- with concept of paying R289 (about $41) for 1 (ONE) GIG on 3G (you read that right outtatowners) or the schlep and contractual noose of telkom the monolithic state-owned diabolical evil main telco in SA (really just another face to vodacom...)


you'll be delighted to know that i have decided where my next trip will be.

it might not be inspired, but i fucking loved cambodia and thailand. problem is, when it came to the former i didn't spend enough time there and when it came to the latter i just went to the same place every time cos it's so freaking perfect.

so ja, after weeks, nay months, of flipping over where i should go, where where where, i've decided the mekong circle. was thinking, like, tanzania, mozambique, madagascar, botswana (fucking LOVE that place. for some reason.) but as much as i love the africa, i'm feeling that humid otherness of SE Asia calling calling calling me again...

i can finally sleep peacefully.

these are actually my pics. for some reason though the only pics i have on this laptop are the cambodia ones. i'd upload more, maybe, later but between blogger error messages and my shitty connection i think i might pop a blood vessel in my small toe.

oao plums. hope your week is as delicious as a very delicious thing. i certainly hope mine is.


Thursday, September 23

Wednesday, September 22

fun for the whole family

Air Sex World Championships
cos who doesn't want to look like a 'tard under hypnosis in front
of thousands of people

Contestants will 'thrust, grab and motorboat their way for two minutes, while covering all the bases of the air sex experience: meeting, seduction, foreplay, intercourse and, if successful, afterglow'.

got your 'o' face ready to go?

air sex apparently originated in a small club in Japan, and YouTube clips were apparently all over the interwebs a couple of years back. then alamo drafthouse brought it america, and, well, now we a big ra-ra ***bling bling **** AIR SEX WORLD CHAAAAAMPIOOOONNN ***bling bling bling ****

these americans are crazy. and good to laugh at.

most fun you can have with your clothes on? i'd rather consider ben wa balls to be the most fun i can have with my clothes on.

sally was having a very, very good day

check out

Monday, September 20

no postsecret

there wasn't one i particularly LOVED this week. so i'll post an arb collection of pics from my crappy phone, cos i'm so menstrual the bloat in my tummy is taking over brain space and i can't be bovverd to think of something even vaguely cool to opine about.

me and my bloat

and i'm about as spiky also. with that weird look of surprise on my face for just how much bloat my uterus can test me with. all in all a very accurate depiction.

a random paper man plastered to the promenade. how odd, don't you think? who decides that what this grey promenade needs is a cut-out paper man. what is the meaning of it all? should i go draw a happy face on it?

my surprise olive bonsai which grew itself in my palm's pot from a throwaway pruning of the big daddy

my hydrangea which once was dead from the blight and now is alive

a clever slide postcard from bordeaux

crystal pools. perfect for outdoor sex preferably during the week with no one around.
i plan to test this theory. (just don't get lost trying to get to the top pool. sucks.
i speak from experience. as always.)

i made a bunny. cos that's how i roll. yo.

yup. that's 'bout it. i too will have a lovely camera soon. and then pics will be awesome and you'll gasp and sigh.

oao plums.

Thursday, September 16

shejaculation - NSFW

Think female ejaculation is something only porn stars and fetishists do? Sex columnist Dorothy Black says not so.

Look, I will state it categorically and without hesitation: I love my vagina. In one of those lists they ask you to write about what your top, most favourite body parts are, I would have to write:

1. Vagina

2. Eyes

3. Hair
4. And so on…

Though, frankly, after ‘eyes’ anything not directly related to the senses wouldn’t mean much to me. (‘Lips and tongue’ for tasting, sucking and licking as opposed to ‘my smile’ etc etc.)

My vagina and I have had some good times together. I reckon our grand relationship really comes down to the fact that because I look after her and pay her attention she gives me all manner of fantastic orgasms. And this pleases me.

Except, I’ve recently come to realise that she’s been withholding on one major punani pleasure. The
piece d’resistance of orgasms. The Holy Grail of orgasms.

No. Not the g-spot, a-spot or u-spot. Those are all so last season.

I’m talking about female ejaculation. Once considered a mythological tale akin to that of the Yeti and the US moon landing, shejaculation is The Next Big Thing of women’s sex topics. Read more...

oh how do you gush my lovely

I love how the first two comments on the column are like 'oh that topic's just so passé we (or my lovers) gush ALL the time. yawn.'


for the rest of us mortals...

'Amrita' is Sanskrit for 'elixir of immortality' or 'divine nectar' and refers to female ejaculate which is considered to be both mystical and powerfully healing.

i get lots of mails for info about g-spots etc etc and i'll write up a full 'orgasm points' post soon... for now, pics...

although this pic shows the organs as separate. they're really not... so it looks kinda like this:

which is why, if you pop your finger in like so...

you'll probably feel a rough little patch where your g-spot, or g-area, is and because the bladder's so right there, it's probably why you might feel the need to pee when you start giving your g some loving...every woman is different though so...

oh and the skeens gland, where they think the fluid might be coming from and which i talk about in the column as 'draining' from a point near the urethra, like so:

so. there you have it then. anyway. can't chat. long overdue article. editor. breathing. down. neck. argh.

Tuesday, September 14


this is the first of a guest blogging spot from bordeaux. you might've read me talk about him in the columns or blog as simply 'b'. here he is:

hello bordeaux



Earlier this year, when Alexander and I were visiting Taiwan for the winter, I was talking to a guy online.

He lived in a city northeast of Taipei and was on break from school for the winter holidays. 

He was single and complaining to me about how small his prospects are for finding the right guy. I couldn't understand why he was having such a hard time finding a boy for a relationship or just some fun. There are loads of very handsome and very available men in Taiwan. Just look at any gay-dating website around here, plenty of handsome and available men looking for love or a good time.

Yes, he said, but they are all Taiwanese and I don't like Taiwanese men. I can't stand them they turn me off. I want a white boyfriend.

Harsh words, I thought, especially coming from a Taiwanese guy.

 This was not an isolated case.

We talked to several Taiwanese guys who were totally put off by the idea of dating another Taiwanese guy. Another guy was looking for a three-way with another couple, but he was very particular about the couple. Both had to be white, a mixed couple would not do because he refuses to get into bed with a Taiwanese guy.

I stopped the conversation right there.

One friend has only dated foreign men and claims to have almost no Taiwanese friends. Another asked Alexander if he thought he was handsome. When Alexander answered yes his next question was, "But what if you compare me to a white guy?" WTF?

I sent an email to several of my gay Taiwanese friends asking for their thoughts on this topic. None responded. I decided to ambush one of them (who regularly dates foreign men) while out for drinks at Taipei's Red Square this past weekend, a well-known gay bar neighborhood, similar to Soi 4 in Bangkok, but prettier.

"Do you have a preference for white guys and what do you think about Taiwanese guys who aggressively refuses to be with a Taiwanese guy in any way?"

His answers were vague and non-committal. "Maybe they got hurt in a relationship with a Taiwanese guy," was the lame suggestion. At least he said that he does not mind having sex with Taiwanese guys, which I know is true (the gay community in Taiwan is fairly small, things get around).

But I do also know that he pretty much only ever goes out on dates with foreign guys and I have never heard him talk about dating someone Taiwanese. He should have been a good source, but unfortunately I did not get much out of him.

The next evening we had our good friends Honey-D and Honey-J over for dinner. They're both Taiwanese and have been together for quite a couple of years now. I asked them why there are guys out there who exclusively dates white guys.

Honey-J giggled and suggested it's because they are size queens who firmly believe in the generalization that foreign men are bigger. Honey-D's answer was more intriguing.

He told me about this Chinese saying, 外國的月亮比較圓, which basically translates as something like the moon in the western world is more perfect.

 "Do you guys believe that?!" I asked in shock. "Of course not! It's stupid, but when we here of someone who feels like those guys we say this," said Honey-D.

A bullshit saying, but it does sum things up. After all, David Beckham's face is selling razors instead of way yummier Hidetoshi Nakata from Japan. A couple years back Brad Pitt was seen in car commercials, not Taiwanese-born dreamboat Takeshi Kaneshiro.

It's a sad state of affairs, but white is still seen by many people in Asia as some to-be-aspired-to ideal. Something I honestly do not get. I'm not going to claim that I don't see race or ethnicity, but to me, a guy is a guy, and a penis is a penis.

If the package includes good looks and someone who can hold a conversation, bonus!

 Luckily for me I'm fortunate enough to be in a relationship with someone who chose me based on looks and brains (I think!), and the same goes for our friends the two Honeys.



say hello bordeaux here

(it's actually odd that b's guest blog is about asian dudes wanting the white arse. ever since i posted 'i could've danced all night' with a pic of an gay asian dude pegging his partner, my blog's been hit more times than britney with the key words 'hot+asian+guy'...)

Monday, September 13

postsecret pic of the week

a while back i posted something about lost cities and how detroit and its modern ruins had become a sort of post-apocolyptic vision for our generation.

the two last pics come from detroit might become the experimental hotbed for urban farming techniques. or something.

check this out:

From >> Detroit was once the 4th largest city in America and it held the title of Motor City because most of America’s cars came from there.

Flash forward 40 years, and Detroit’s population has dwindled from a high of 2 million people to just over 800,000. The average price for a home in Detroit is $15,000, the lowest in the country. With so many empty spaces, criminals have no shortage of hideouts and drug factories.

And with America’s auto industry still reeling from the recession, as well as having outsourced many jobs to other states (or countries), the future looks bleak for Detroit’s long-deferred recovery.

Unless one millionaire gets his way, and turns the city into farms. Yes, farms.... Read more, it's pretty freaking interesting...


how awesome is that? check out the hantz farms webpage for incredible pics of the city and what they plan to do with it > click here

go detroooiiiiitttt (even tho i'll prolly never ever visit you and probably wouldn't care unless you were about to become one of the world's hottest reality makeover stories...)

also, just found this via @viceuk - johnny knoxville and palladium:

Wednesday, September 8

the problem with writing about sex

see the big deal with the tuesday date with the HEB (highly eligible bachelor... keep up plums) column reader is the following: he's a column reader.

the imagination is a beautiful thing and can make up golden worlds based on a nugget of grey information. it's the day-to-day alchemy our brains perform that makes living mostly ok. without it religion wouldn't survive and top billing wouldn't make money.

where're the muslims?

how does this pertain to me and dating readers? the imagination is easily offended by reality. usually when i meet someone in really real life who's read my column i get this kinda reaction:

i think its because in their heads they've got me pegged somewhere between SATC and a pay-TV D-list porn starlett (the latter more so if they're Christian...).

girls mostly think this


guys mostly think this

Needless to say, without fail, I will get 'my GOD, you're just so... so... NORMAL'.

yeah. tell that to my parents.

then there's also the not telling someone when you meet them or a first date thing, like:

he: so, whatdya do?
me: oh, i write
he: write what?
me: oh just some magazine stuff, you know...
he: oh that's cool...

the end.

now if it'd gone like this:

he: so, whatdya do?
me: oh, i write
he: write what?
me: oh just some magazine stuff and a sex column

one, or all, of the next three things will happen:

1. Their little eyes light up like sunbeams for Jesus
2. They suddenly assume you're a nympho
3. They're intimidated.

then, between that revelation and the next meeting, mr man will have trawled the columns and/or blog and suddenly assumption replaces proper interaction and and and and....


so gito and i decided a while back that the best cure for this problem is to tweek the fight club rulz.

The first rule of being a sex columnist is :
You do not tell the dude you're a sex columnist.
The second rule of being a sex columnist is : You do not tell the dude you're a sex columnist.

it's like people expecting durden, when really i'm more norton as The Narrator. but, i like to think, that instead of being The Narrator when he's bat-shit crazy, i'm him after he blows his face off.

JACK Do something for me.
JACK Appreciate something.


Look at me...
JACK My eyes are open.


so why am i breaking a rule and going to dinner with HEB? because, as he suggested, it would be interesting to see things from an older, starter-wifed, very successful HEB's perspective.

we'll see.